


the slightest touch (and I feel weak)

by SailorChibi



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Wings, Avengers Family, Cuddling, Cute overload, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, First cuddles, Fluff, M/M, Manhandling, Misunderstandings, Natasha knows all, Oblivious Tony, Puppy Piles, Sleepy Tony, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Wing Grooming, Wings, all the feels, bucky barnes is over this shit, so many feels, so much fluff seriously, tony stark has self-esteem issues, wing fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-07
Updated: 2015-11-07
Packaged: 2018-04-30 10:00:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5159573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SailorChibi/pseuds/SailorChibi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“When you’re really tired or out of it, you show the underside of your wings to Steve,” Natasha says to Tony, ignoring Clint, who is doing an excellent impression of a fish. “We’ve all noticed it, but no one ever said anything because we didn’t think you knew. And judging from the look on your face, you didn’t.”</p><p>“I don’t –”</p><p>Natasha cuts him off with a raised hand. “Save it. I’m sure JARVIS has got video proof. You do it with Steve, Clint does it with Coulson, and both of them melt all over themselves when you two do it.” She stands, picking up her glass of wine. “So please, for the sanity of everyone else who has to live in this house, get over yourselves and just mate already.” She sweeps out of the room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the slightest touch (and I feel weak)

**Author's Note:**

> Do you ever get to the point where you're like, 3/4 of the way through the writing something and you realize you've hit the point of SO MUCH FLUFF you just... you don't know what to do anymore? Yeah, I hit that point with this fic.

“It’s true and you know it,” Natasha is saying as Tony ambles into the room. She pauses meaningfully and Tony looks up, blinking at them blearily. Steve just rousted him and Bruce out of the lab after a three day inventing marathon. While Steve was preoccupied with literally prying the markers out of Bruce’s hands, Tony seized his chance to escape and went on a search for coffee, with the vague idea that caffeine might help him stick it out for another few hours. Now, seeing that the wonder twins have camped out at the table, he’s rethinking that strategy.

Natasha blatantly looks him up and down, rolls her eyes, and turns back to Clint. “I’m telling you. Coulson’s got it just as bad for you as you do for him.”

“I do not have it bad for Coulson,” Clint says, lavender feathers bristling a little. He stuffs a whole chocolate chip cookie into his mouth and mumbles something unintelligible, sending a spray of crumbs across the table. Tony grabs his mug and considers a strategic retreat to another coffeepot… but this one is so _close_. Empty, but close.

“Yes you do. You know how Tony acts around Steve when he’s sleepy or hurt?”

“What?” Tony says.

“I do not act like that!” Clint says at the same time. “I’m not that bad!”

“You are, and Coulson reacts the same way that Steve does.”

“What?” Tony says again. Either he’s missing some vital bit of information, or he’s not awake enough for this conversation. “I don’t… what?”

“When you’re really tired or out of it, you show the underside of your wings to Steve,” Natasha says to Tony, ignoring Clint, who is doing an excellent impression of a fish. “We’ve all noticed it, but no one ever said anything because we didn’t think you knew. And judging from the look on your face, you didn’t.”

“I don’t –”

Natasha cuts him off with a raised hand. “Save it. I’m sure JARVIS has got video proof. You do it with Steve, Clint does it with Coulson, and both of them melt all over themselves when you two do it.” She stands, picking up her glass of wine. “So please, for the sanity of everyone else who has to live in this house, get over yourselves and just mate already.” She sweeps out of the room.

Tony stares blankly at the table. “I don’t show my wings to Steve.”

“Yeah, man, you kind of do,” says Clint, and at least he has the decency to look apologetic. “If it helps, she’s not wrong about how Steve reacts.” He pulls a face. “Though I still think she’s wrong about Coulson. The guy never melts over anything…”

“Why are you talking about Coulson melting?” Steve asks as he walks into the room. His pale blue wings are properly folded against his back. “No, you know what, it’s better I don’t know. Tony, no coffee. You’re going to bed.”

Suddenly reminded of his original goal, Tony looks at the coffeepot. It’s still empty. He pets it hopefully. “Coffee?”

“No coffee,” Steve repeats, not unkindly, gently taking the mug from Tony’s hand. “You and Bruce have been up for at least three days straight, if not longer. Frankly, I’m surprised you’re still going. The last thing you need is another dose of caffeine. What if the call to assemble went off when you’re this out of it?” He’s trying hard to sound disapproving, but mostly just sounds fond. 

It makes Tony feel warm all over and he straightens up, turning towards Steve. “We were creating a new algorithm to better increase the elasticity of -”

“Oh god,” Clint says. “Get him out of here before he goes all science-y.”

“Come on, Tony.” Steve’s hand gently clamps down on his shoulder and starts steering him out of the room.

“Hulk pants!” Tony shouts over his shoulder, incensed that no one wants to listen to his genius, and is pretty sure he hears Clint start laughing. Even Steve is grinning as they walk into the elevator. It feels like an accomplishment in itself, but right on its heels is the kind of exhaustion that goes all the way down into his core. With no caffeine boost, he ends up leaning against the wall, kind of propped up in the corner, as the elevator starts to move.

“Are you really creating Hulk pants?” Steve asks.

Tony nods slowly, focusing most of his energy on convincing his legs that no, this is not a good place to give out. “Bruce hates it,” he slurs. “So I said… hulk pants… ev’ryone needs a un’form t’put on…”

“That sounds like an excellent idea. You’re a good friend to him.” Steve hooks an arm around Tony’s waist when the doors open and practically carries him out of the elevator. Tony loses a bit of time, he thinks, because the next thing he knows Steve is gently pushing him down on his bed. He looks up at Steve and smiles, open and sleepy, and watches Steve’s whole face soften. That’s the last thing he remembers before he falls asleep.

Some thirteen hours later, Tony wakes up and the first words out of his mouth are: “Oh my fucking god, JARVIS, why didn’t you tell me I was doing this earlier!”

“My apologies, sir,” JARVIS says, and it should not be possible for an A.I. to sound so frigging amused. “You did not indicate this was something you wished to be made aware of.”

“How could I tell you I wanted to know if _I_ didn’t know?” Tony says, completely mortified. “Show me the footage from last night, when Steve helped –”

“Carried.”

“ - _helped_ me to bed, stop taking lessons from Pepper. I am not above selling you to MIT, or better yet Hammer Industries.”

If JARVIS had the ability to roll his eyes, he would. The pointed silence says it all. Tony sulks as the footage starts to roll, but quickly switches to watching in horror as Steve carries him into the room - bridal style, no less - and over to the bed. The Tony on screen goes down less gracefully than a drunken Clint, sprawling across the pillows and humming in satisfaction. Steve bends down to grab the blankets, and that’s when it happens: Tony-on-screen shifts onto his back, smiles adoringly and opens his wings, showing off the hidden secondaries.

It’s basically an invitation for Steve to jump him, but not just in the sexy way. More like in the ‘I love you and would have your babies were we biologically able to do so’ way. Tony is _so_ fucked.

Steve just smiles back, expression unbearably fond, and ruffles the hair of the Tony on screen. Tony doesn’t remember that, but the Tony-on-screen passes out like ten seconds later, so it’s not surprising. Steve spends about a minute petting his hair, and then he spreads the blanket out across the bed and backs out of the room, flicking the light off as he goes.

“Does this happen on a regular basis?” Tony asks weakly.

“About four out of every five times Captain Rogers carries you to bed.”

“Helps,” Tony mutters, but all the fight has gone out of him. He’s burning with mortification, wings drawn in tightly against his back, like if he shrinks down small enough he might be able to disappear. It doesn’t work, though he doesn’t manage to twist one of his primaries out of alignment. Swearing under his breath, he unfolds his wings and carefully smoothes the black feather into place.

He sits like that for a few minutes, absently combing his fingers through the feathers. They’re a little dusty, a little greasy, a little disheveled. He doesn’t go to professional grooming salons anymore, not since coming back from Afghanistan, and Pepper doesn’t feel comfortable doing it for him now the way she did when they dated. So it’s up to Tony to groom them whenever he remembers. He misses the feel of Pepper’s delicate hands, the way she knew how to tug on a feather to remove it without making it hurt, how good he always slept afterwards.

Tony doesn’t like his wings. They’re dark red and black, but in the wrong lights they look all black, and they say that wings are the representation of a soul so he doesn’t know what it means that his wings have always looked like this. When he was younger he favored the dusts and paints that can turn feathers any color imaginable. Now that he’s older and doesn’t have the time to waste or energy to bother, he gets lots of questions about whether the color changed after Afghanistan. 

He wonders, for a moment, what Steve thinks of his wings.

Not that it really matters. Steve doesn’t like him that way. They’re friends and nothing else. Actually, there have been a handful of times when Tony’s wondered whether Steve likes _Bucky_ that way. There’s a ton of speculation about the nature of their relationship, and not all of it has popped up in the last year since Bucky joined them; Tony grew up watching videos that strongly suggested, if it not outright declared, that Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes were lovers. And sometimes, the way the two of them look at each other, the way they touch, the way they smile… it’s enough to make anyone curious.

Which means that Tony is putting Steve in an extremely awkward position by showing off his wings the way he does. It’s a wonder Steve hasn’t said anything before now. He winces a little, wondering how long Steve’s been putting up with this. He could ask JARVI,S but he’s not really sure he wants to know the answer either. Sometimes it’s better not to know. All he has to do from now on is be more careful about how he acts around Steve. 

So he is. Things that were second nature before – slumping against Steve while waiting for that first cup of coffee in the morning, falling asleep on Steve’s shoulder during movie night, and _especially_ hanging around until he’s sleepy enough to let Steve help him to bed – Tony stops all of it. He keeps his distance, scaling it back to the territory of just friends while painting a smile on his face, and staunchly pretends not to notice Steve’s increasingly confused and puppy dog hurt looks. 

Besides, he’s not the only one.

“You are both being very, very stupid right now, and I don’t have much patience for stupidity,” Natasha says in that low, threatening voice that means she’s got knives secreted away. Pointy knives that she’d love to use. Tony tries not to wince, and he definitely doesn’t look at Bucky. Oh god, this could not _be_ more awkward.

“C’mon, Tash,” Clint says. “I mean, I agree that Tony’s being dumb –”

“Hey!”

“ – but I’m not. Coulson was dating that cellist, remember?”

“A relationship which ended a year and a half ago, which Coulson has not mentioned for approximately a year and five months,” Natasha points out. She’s got her yellow wings folded back, but the feathers go a little puffy with annoyance when she glares at Tony. “And what’s your excuse? Steve hasn’t seriously dated anyone since he woke up. He had a fling with Sharon, but don’t tell me you think that means anything.”

“No,” Tony mumbles, and carefully _does not_ look at Bucky.

“Oh my god,” Bucky says, because he’s too fucking smart, and he sounds like he can’t decide whether to laugh or start yelling. “Stark, that’s just – yeah, you and Steve definitely deserve each other.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Tony demands, indignant. 

“You’re both idiots,” Bucky and Natasha say together. It’s creepy and they shouldn’t be allowed to do that anymore. Tony says as much.

“Whatever,” Bucky says, rolling his eyes. “For the amount of moping I’ve had to put up with, you can suck it up. Get over here, Stark.”

“What – put me down! Barnes!” It’s not a squeal, _definitely_ not a squeal, more of a manly yelp, when Bucky effortlessly grabs and throws Tony over his right shoulder. Tony squeaks and scrabbles for a hold while trying not to touch Bucky’s sleek silver wings. Failing that, he ends up making a weak grab for Clint. But then Natasha’s hauling Clint to his feet and marching him along too, so Clint’s not much help. 

“Traitor,” Tony hisses at him.

Clint shrugs, albeit sheepishly. “You’re hurting me,” he says through clenched teeth to Natasha, and when Tony looks down Natasha’s grip does look suspiciously tight. 

“Sorry,” she says, not sounding all that apologetic. “But you and Coulson are going to talk to each other. I swear, Clint, I have been living with this for the past five years, and now that Tony and Steve are doing the same dance I’ve reached my limit.”

“You and me both,” Bucky mutters, taking a hard right into the living room. 

“Uh – Buck?” Steve’s voice says, and then Tony is unceremoniously dropped into Steve’s lap. Literally. Also on top of a playstation controller, which ow, thank you very much for that.

Bucky throws himself down on the other side of Steve. The couch, which is barely wide enough to accommodate Steve and Thor, is definitely not big enough for all four of them. Bucky doesn’t seem to care judging by how he wiggles around to get comfortable. Then he props himself up on an elbow and looks at Steve.

“I just found out the most interesting bit of information,” he says. “Apparently I’ve wasted the last year or so of my life listening to you mope about Stark for no reason at all. And by the way, if I’d known this is what you were like when you were gone on a dame, I never would’ve kept offering to introduce you around when we were kids.”

“I’m not a girl,” Tony protests, right before the full meaning of what Bucky’s saying sinks in. He goes quiet and still and _speechless_ because that can't mean what he thinks it does.

Steve, on the other hand, is pink and flustered. “Th-that’s not – I’m not –” 

“Save it. Stark is just as gone on you as you are on him.”

Tony’s mouth falls open, but he's still at the point where nothing is coming out. He would say he can’t believe Bucky just did that, except this is exactly the kind of thing the little shit does on a regular basis. Why does he let these people live with him again?

The awkward silence in the room deepens until Thor breaks it with a victorious shout, having successfully won the battle. Steve jerks out of his daze and glares at the television. “Best three out of five,” he demands, wrapping an arm around Tony's waist and lifting him just enough to free his controller. Then Steve sets Tony back down on his thighs, wraps _both_ arms around Tony’s waist, and the fight is on.

Once or twice, Tony does make an attempt to free himself. Every time, Steve gives an exasperated growl and tightens his grip until finally Tony just gives up. Steve’s chin is resting on his shoulder and his elbows are on Tony’s thighs and his hands are braced on Tony's tummy and Tony really, really doesn’t have it in him to fight this. He forces himself to relax back against Steve, even though his heart is still pounding at the possibility that maybe, just _maybe_ , this situation isn’t as hopeless as he thought it was.

It doesn’t help that Bucky keeps shooting them smug looks. Or that, midway through the sixth battle, Bruce, Natasha, Clint and Coulson come into the room. Clint and Coulson are actually holding hands. It’s disgusting. Tony makes it a point to scowl at them both, even though he thinks he’d be pretty okay with Steve holding his hand. And when they sit down, and Clint purposely angles himself so that his lavender feathers brush against Coulson’s deep green – a pretty combination to anyone who cares to notice, which Tony doesn’t – Tony looks away.

By the time the whole team has gathered, Thor has won the fight and the controllers have been surrendered so that a movie can be turned on. Steve is warm and surprisingly comfortable, and for once it’s not weird at all to have his wings pressed up against someone else, and Tony blames that for the reason that he falls asleep halfway through the movie. 

He wakes up when Steve moves, sliding them both off the couch and onto the floor. The lights have been dimmed. Sam, Rhodey, Pepper, Jane and Darcy must have wandered in at some point, because they’re sprawled around the room with the rest of the team. Somebody must have brought blankets and pillows, and he can just make out what looks like a fort constructed out of blankets – Clint and Darcy’s doing, no doubt, the two of them are a menace when they get together. Tony peers blearily at the fort, which looks like it’s going to topple over at any moment, and wonders why they didn’t wake him up to help.

“Because you haven’t really slept in about a week now,” Steve whispers to him. “I know what that look on your face means, Tony, and no. You are not waking everyone up to tear the fort apart. We can rebuild it in the morning.”

Tony pouts but concedes the point. Bruce has a bad temper when he gets woken up early. He goes to roll over and stops when he realizes that there are fingers in his wings. His voice cracks when he asks, “Steve?”

“Did you… Was Bucky right? Are you gone on me?” Steve is so close his breath washes over the back of Tony’s neck with every word.

Thank god for dark rooms. Tony doesn’t blush very often, but right now his face is hot. “I… that’s… I –”

“Cause I’m pretty gone on you, and it’s been taking everything I have to keep from kissing you when you show me your wings.”

Tony freezes.

“Tony?”

Slowly, he turns his head. He can just make out Steve’s eyes. He wants to be suave here. Cool and calm. So of course what comes out is, “You… you like my wings?”

“Of course I do. Your wings are beautiful.” Steve presses a kiss to the nearest feather. Tony feels that contact like a shock all the way down to his toes. His wings shiver and Steve smiles, looking back up at him. His face is close, much closer than Tony realized.

“Steve,” he breathes, eyes flicking down to Steve’s mouth. “Natasha says we’re being dumb.”

“I guess this proves she’s always right.” Steve kisses him then, very carefully, and something that chaste should not leave Tony feeling like a trembling wreck. 

“So you’re not in love with Bucky,” Tony says, just to be sure.

“Bucky?” Steve echoes. “Tony, have you been watching those old movies again?”

“No,” Tony lies, like he hasn’t been watching them regularly over the past couple of months just to torture himself with what he can’t have, and looks away. He sets his head down on a pillow as Steve sighs and pulls him closer, burying his face in Tony’s wings and neck.

“I’ve never been interested in Bucky like that. Is that why you’ve been so distant lately?”

“… Maybe?”

“I thought I’d done something wrong.”

“I’m sorry,” Tony says guiltily. That’s a new record. They haven’t even started the relationship and he’s already messed up.

But Steve shakes his head. “It’s okay. I didn’t say anything about how I felt, either. I love you, Tony.”

For a split second Tony wonders if he’s still asleep and he’s just dreaming this. But he doesn’t think his imagination would conjure up the sound of Rhodey and Bucky snoring, or the way Jane’s elbow is jabbing him in the leg. This is real. It’s easier not to see Steve’s face right now, but he’s shaking a little when he says, “I love you too.”

“Oh my god, _finally_ ,” someone says amongst the sound of sudden cheering, and it takes Tony a moment to realize it’s Bruce – and that pretty much the whole room has been wide awake and listening the whole time. His face gets even hotter and he groans, bringing his hands up to hide behind. Steve just chuckles behind him and kisses his wings again.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://tsuki-chibi.tumblr.com/).


End file.
